Twinkle
by MagicPotatoes
Summary: "They really were great people Nessie... Your mother was anyway" I turn and give Jacob a piercing stare. "She used me," I state coldly. "She saved you" he corrects me. I can see the tension in his muscles, shuffling like the dog that he is. His determination to defend the actions of my mother is palpable. If only he knew the thoughts that passed her mind when I was just her Nudger
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Disclaimer:**** I own nothing but a computer and an imagination... I want bloodshed! Hence why this is set in a world where the Volturi ****DID attack the Cullens in Breaking Yawn, and have their big epic battle over Death Baby, whom escaped with creepy Uncle Jacob. Yeah.. Spoilers. I do not own the mentioned characters or any others characters I may use from the Twilight cannon.**

**If you would please leave a review with some constructive critism, that would be great and much appreciated :) Take care, and enjoy!**

I indulge myself in another lungful of that fresh smell of salt spray drifting across the loch. It was early October and although late into the evening, my surroundings seemed so much more alive than usual. I could hear the clicks of crickets, snapping jaws of a beetle, the whistle of a Swallow bird high in the bony treetops. This was my world. The world of the night, the comfort of the darkness. It made me grin. Fear of the unknown. I giggle to myself softly. Creatures were coming alive, tonight. I could feel them writhing in the dirt and twitching in the trees. The shadows that caressed every pebble on the shores of Loch Fyne danced across the growing mist. So soon. Already winter was rearing it's head. I chew my bottom lip, my brow furrowing. I hated winter. I wanted to savour the sweet crisp autumn leaves and the delectable pumpkin pie Aunty Debra would make. She wasn't my aunty, not really. But she likes to act like she is, so I tolerate it. Anyway, so long as she feeds us more of that pie, who could complain?

I hear a distant creak. Turning my head as my shoulders tense. I sit up, with tiny beads of rock clinging to the back of my multicoloured wool sweater. I can feel my jaw twitch for a moment, then I relax. I know that stench. I cannot hold back the massive grin I have. My puppy dog has come in search of me. Oh how I'd hoped he would relax and just play his X-Box all night like most boys his age. I give him a wry smile and shrug. I can hear Jake's heavy tread across the dock; his little heart beat thumping as he jumps down and marches over to me. My smile vanishes. Oh dear. He looks pissed. I blow an escaped tendril of bronze-coloured hair off my forehead. Typical.

"I just wanted some fresh air," I say before he can lecture me.

"Then next time, open a window before running off." Jacob replies, his voice tight. He makes a grab for me and I roll away from him. "I did.," I say. "And then when that failed, I escaped through the window." I frown up at him, rising up onto my bare feet, grazing my jeans a little. Flimsy mortal fabric. I'm barely four foot, compared to Jake, who's almost two feet taller. How pathetic. At least I mature faster though. Girls often do. I clench my fists and stamp my foot. "You're not the boss of me!" I declare. He looks mortally wounded. If only I was so lucky.

"Nessie... I was worried. So was Deb." He says, voice barely a whisper. I turn and fold my arms

"I don't care! Both of you were starting to stink. Even worse, was that farting cat of hers. When are you gunna let me eat that rat-munching, Rupert?" Jacob sighs exasperated, placing his hands on his hips, raising one hulking bicep up and pinches his brow bone. Most girls at school love to gawk at his muscles. I guess when you're accustomed to him walking around shirtless every five minutes, one becomes immune to the novelty."You know I can't let you do that, Nessie." He says. "We've been through five cats already. We shouldn't keep taking advantage of Aunty Deb like that."

Aunty Debra, is a quiet lonely old cow with a fondness for oysters. I can understand it being one of the town's main contribution to the local businesses (besides the lure for tourists) however this woman could make oysters into almost anything. Her most common concoctions she claims to be food. Either way, all that fish culminates into one very rotten-smelling household, and to people with such sensitive smell, it can be most foul. Although, the cloying smell of rotten seafood does help to mask Aunt Debra's own tempting scent. Though, Jacob makes a good point. The old hag has dodgy eyesight not often helped by her miniature specks. Although, it made the task of replacing the _missing_ Rupert's 1 – 5 much easier. But I suppose Jacob makes a good point about the "moral" side of it. He's been attending too many church services, clearly. I guess it's understandable; considering there is very little by way of youth entertainment in this town. And even if there was, Jacob would likely advise me against it.

There lay a moment of tense silence between us before I felt those strong arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me up, clenching me tightly against him in a bear hug. I let out a shriek, squirming around in his grip. I was still mad at him, but his sudden contact took me totally off guard. Swinging me back and forth, causing my legs to flail around like a rag doll, my squeals of childish glee echoing across the loch. He plops me back down. I try to compose my beaming grin into a stern mask of disapproval. He's smirking at me, and I pout. He readjusts my frilly headband, kneeling down in front of me. "You still mad?" He asks. I contemplate the answer. Yes. Yes I am. Very much. How do I choose to express this? I give him a wicked grin then ask softly "Are you?" Before he can react, I deliver him a surprise uppercut sending him flying through the air and smashing into the dock.

With a deafening crack followed by layers of dust and termite ridden splintered wood showering down on him, I am almost terrified that we'll be caught for property damage. But I shake it off. Am sure with the right kind of threatening one of us could make those kinds of accusations disappear. Jacob be momentarily disoriented as the debris gradually settles around him; this is the perfect time to return home. I place my hands behind my back, acting innocent for a scant few seconds, before rushing over to gather up my shoes, then I flee for the safe confines of the trees.

Cold winds whip against my dimpled cheeks as I sprint over the mossy undergrowth, dodging rocks, and leaping over fallen tree logs. The moist mud feels great against my toes, cold, like my parents. My legs fumble for a moment, slowing me briefly as I prepare to soar over a passing log. No. Don't think about them. I snap out of my daze, fast enough that I avoid slamming into a tree which seems to have jumped right the hell out of nowhere. Weird Scottish flora. I'm distantly aware of Jacob close behind as he storms through the woodland, ploughing through shrubs and tearing at the naked branches. I'm debating which would be the most suitable hiding spot, beneath the porch, inside the chimney, or (dare I attempt) the outhouse when I am halted by a sudden waft of smoke.

Skidding in the mud I emerge at the edge of the forest overlooking a barren lot of land. A dank dull meadow surrounding a single modest cottage. A two storey tudor thing with thatched roofing and a matching windmill attached to the east side wall of the main house. With keen eyes, I notice that the little four pane windows appeared smashed in, the frames beaten. The quaint wooden door to the cottage lay on the floor of the hallway, split down the middle it seemed. Kicked off it's hinges. My heartbeat quickens as I survey the sight before me. Jacob approaches from the shrub cautiously in his wolf form. His dark brown fur with it's red accents stoop low in the bushes.

My legs delay for a moment before I instinctively take cover beneath his warm coat. Running my fingertips through Jake's soft fur reminds me of that day, two years ago. For some reason, it seems much longer. I'd clung to his back for days. His softness, his warmth had been a comfort back then, like a child's blanket. Though, I suppose one could consider me a child at the time. Jacob Black, is my... guardian, of sorts. He claims we're bonded together by some deep intricate wolfy bollocks. Imprinting I believe. It often leads to... relationships. I despise the word. And I despise him. Of course being his... mate, for use of a better word, does have it's advantages. I, for one, have a totally loyal welp by my side. The fact that he's good looking is merely a bonus.

Jacob raised his great wolf muzzle, his scruff bristling for a moment. This is often a sign of discomfort. Was it time to move on? I claw myself ever so slowly onto his back, careful to make as little sound as possible. I press myself tight up against his back, wrapping my legs beneath his torso. Jacob makes a throaty groan at the touch and that, for some reason, unsettles me. I resist the urge to kick him in the ribs. Jacob creeps forward out of the brush, pacing forward. I can feel the tension of his body radiating off of him. The entire time, we both check, check and triple check our surrounding, each step more daring than the last. Soon we meet the stone pathway leading to the open mouth of the cottage. The white fence squaring off the front yard appeared brutally mangled, the tips of the wood charred black from the thick smoke still billowing out of the hollow remains of the place that had once been our home.

I could feel Jake's hackles raising again. I knew I was clutching his fur a little too tight and after summoning some breathe into my lungs, I gradually began to relax my grip. The further we approached the more and more obvious it became what other smells were mixed in with the fire. Oysters, for one. Dead cat. And even the faint droplets of blood. Instantly, fear clenched my chest. Aunt Debra! I leapt from Jacob and dashed inside. Across the hallway burnt remains of shoes, coats, letters, books, papers lie in a pile of ashes at the foot of an empty bookcase on the right wall. To the left a door leads off to the joint living room / dinning room. Although, one wouldn't be able to tell what an earth it was anymore. The furniture strewn across the room, cushions torn open, every inch of it burnt to a crisp.

I could feel a lump forming in my throat. I heard Jacob's footsteps behind me. I dared a glimpse over my shoulder at him. He'd returned to his human form it seemed. Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments and I see the reflected emotions in his. Pain. Terror. And saddest of all... Relief. This really shouldn't have been much of a shock. In the past two years, we've been hopping around Canada, venturing through Alaska for a brief time, then across to Scotland for the past eight months. The longest time we've gone undetected. It was true. We knew the day would eventually come. I felt tears sting my eyes. I'd hope that peace would carry on but... it looks like I was wrong. And poor Aunt Debra... She paid the price for our underestimation it seems. A swelling of guilt begins to accumulate within my chest.

My shoulders sag as I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I turn my attention back to Jacob. "Did you check the kitchen?" I ask my voice croaked. The smoke seems to be getting to me. Jake seems to realise this and visibly winces. Huh. He _is_ overprotective. He nods then hesitates "I checked..." He sounds... unsure. I barge past him and open the delicate door to the kitchen but what I see stuns me so, that I cannot take another step forward. Blood... Everywhere. Coating the counters, dribbling out of the saucepans left on standby and smeared across the floor tiles. This seems... Odd, somehow. Normally our pursuers are more careful. They plan their attacks a little more... efficiently, than this. We got lucky tonight of course. Me and Jake let our guard down, allowing an innocent old lady to die...

There. A swoop. It came from outside in the back yard. I snap my gaze fast enough, narrowing my eyes and just about catch a glimpse of a tuft of black cape. I tense. Jacob (nude, yes) stands behind me, sensing my uneasiness, no doubt. Although it may seem sickening to outsiders, being magically bonded to a person certainly has its perks. Outside, a figure seemingly falls from the sky in front of us. I stumble backwards, pressing myself into the corner, my heart pounding. I've never seen one of them this close. The moisture in my lips fizzles away, my wide brown eyes darting between Jacob and the hooded figure that approaches us. It seems my 'mate' has acquired himself a kitchen knife. Hardly useful enough to take down one of these guys.

The figure approaches unfazed. Jacob is panicked and makes a charge for the onlooker, finally coming to the conclusion that we are in fact, under threat. The hooded creature dodges him with unfathomable speed, much like my own and before I can react similarly, the figure is standing over me. I gasp, still cowering uselessly in my corner. I feel so weak and feeble, it makes me want to huddle up and cry out in despair. But, I refuse. I shall not give this creature the satisfaction of watching me crack. The cloaked creature eyes me for a few moments more before pulling back her hood revealing a face that stuns me, yet again.

A beautiful glorious pale face smiles down at me. She has golden eyes and long soft waves of luscious blonde hair. I know this woman. She was once a part of my life. She kneels before me, taking my hand in hers. Her teeth are pristine as she smiles. I frown. There is a difference. I notice it first at her ear, then I spot the faint scarring drawing a diagonal line from her right jawline all the way up to her left earlobe. I realise there is a chunk of flesh missing at that ear which she tries to hide behind a set of black feathered earrings. My eyes search her, and upon touching my hand, her eyes flutter shut for a few moments.

I channel those confused memories via our touching flesh, hoping she will understand and give me the confirmation I seek. She sighs heavily then opens her eyes again. "You remember me... Don't you?" She says. I know her face. But sadly, not her name. Those have the tendency to escape me. "You're Renesmee," she urges, as if she were speaking to a baby. I shake my head, my dark eyes blazing as I snatch my hand out from under hers. I know my name. I wish to know hers. I glance up and spot Jacob return through the sliding back door. He gives a nod of acknowledgement to the woman. He recognises her too. The woman speaks again. "My name is Rosalie Hale."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**** Howdy! Sorry it took for-freakin'-ever to get this chapter uploaded but I tend to get very bad cases of writer's block. Sucks, I know. But if it's any consolation, I plan to upload a new chapter once every Saturday/Sunday.**

**Feel free to R&R and hope you enjoy!**

Some dark part of my brain twitches and suddenly, I am washed with memories of this Rosalie person. Her brilliant smile as I, a babe at a time not so long ago, lay bundled in her arms. I feel a sharp pang in my chest. She cherished me. Not because of my ability. Not because I was some child prodigy, but rather that I was just _a child_. She had treated me as such at the time. And by the looks of it, she still does. Rosalie offers me a hand to help me up and I take it rising with her. Now that the shock has worn off, I note how cold her hand is. Just as I remember. Just like _them_. My jaw has gone slack, and I am speechless. Jacob steps forward from his corner of the room, gripping Rosalie's shoulder suddenly. She glances over at him and gives him an equally icy glare. I glance between the two, my mouth twisting into a wry smile.

It was obvious the two did not like each other in the slightest. Finally, Jake speaks up "Why are you here?" His voice is curt.

"Visiting my niece, what does it looks like?" Rosalie purrs as she removes her cloak revealing a slender body hugged by black leggings, matching ugg boots and a trench coat. Jacob growls softly. "Oh shut up, dog." She spins round elegantly facing him and her brows raise, her eyes widening at his nude form. She lets out a feral hiss at the sight of him naked. Her body turns rigid suddenly, bending her legs preparing to pounce. "You... sick sick creature!" She snarls through gritted teeth. Time slows for a moment and, scared that she's going to harm my Jacob, I race to fill the gap between them.

I find myself trapped between the two, their arms locked together in a struggle, as they both try with equal strength to repel one another. Glancing back and forth between them. Their expressions as well as their efforts seem to mirror each other. Beast v.s Beast. A surreal part of me tunes them out, as I recall that we are standing in the remains of a dank charred cottage within a room covered in blood. I see little point in disrupting their most charming reunion and decide to dismiss myself. A rather crude section of my mind wonders that as I exit the room, they will let down their defences and start a make out session. I roll my eyes at the prospect. I may appear a meek innocent little thirteen year old, but even I know what people get up to behind closed doors. Get a room... With more tasteful interior, at least. I sneak away through the back door and begin making my way back to the loch.

As I trace the shoreline with my aching feet I hear the familiar howl which is often an indication that somewhere, Jacob is engaging in a dramatic 'No!' as he realises I am not within his hawk-like view. You can imagine what it's like during school hours where we have our different classes for a whole hour. I grin at the thought of him in turmoil, before glancing over my shoulder to see if he had caught up yet.

For as long as I've known him, Jacob has always been overprotective of me. He claims it's his duty – something to do with his Imprinting thing. I believe he doesn't give me enough credit. I may have been young that day I was abandoned to his care by my own mother, but I could still understand the subtext in her words. My mother practically gift wrapped me to Jacob and direct mailed me right into his lap.

I have such short memories of my time spent with my initial family. I wasn't even fully aware that Rosalie was my aunt. My mother would only really speak of my other aunt, Alice. My memories of her are less fond. Her dishevelled black pixie cut and wide sparkling golden eyes were most unnerving in my mind's eye. What few memories I have of her are certainly not pleasant ones either. I recall her dropping a vase once and my mother became most displeased. Then the following day, aunt Alice had left and by then... My mother was beyond enraged. The scorn in her voice had been lethal if someone dared to mention that aunt afterwards. Last I heard of her, anyway. I assume my precious aunt didn't pay for a replacement vase yet; hence the unjustified despise. But my mother was merciless, constantly hateful; often without reason.

I recoil in shock as the freezing swell of the loch engulfs my feet. I stumble backwards onto the shoreline, panting a little as I try to compose the rising panic in my gullet. I take a deep breath allowing my shoulders to relax. I glance up at the clouds, trying to calm myself. Trickles of sun rays are beginning to claw their way across the sky, turning the blackness of night into a faint morning mist. Speckles of light begin to drift across the waters of the loch, highlighting the natural beauty of the area. "A nice view," says a familiar voice. My gaze darts up and there stands Rosalie. Her body is silhouetted against the rising sun, her body wrapped in a warm heavenly glow. Smiling down at me – again as if I were still a child. I regard her for a moment, eyes searching. I tilt my head then ask "Why did you kill Debra?" Her smile flickers for a moment, a shadowing casting over her face. I glance over and realise that Jacob has caught up.

He towers over me, holding his ground,dark brown eyes narrowed on her, his fists clenched. It is moments like these that I wish a shirt would materialize out of thin air and cover his sweat-drenched abdominals. They can be most distracting, and not in a good sense. Also, anything to temporarily mask that wet dog smell. Thankfully, though, he has had the sense to acquire some pantaloons. He gives a brief nod "Tell her, Rose." There is an unspoken demand behind his words. It unsettles me. If Rose detects this, she appears unfazed, pursing her lips, her body far more relaxed than his. "I was hungry of course." She replies. Rosalie glances down at me for a moment, smiling that obnoxious grin again. "I had to," She pauses eyeing me speculatively "You know what we are, don't you, little Renesmee?" I grunt then nod.

"More than I ought to." I murmur, pulling a sly grin that seems to puzzle her. Figures. But of course. She did not know of the truths that lie in the mist of my mother's mind. _Lucky her_, I think bitterly.

After some coaxing from a rather anxious Jacob, we begin to exchange our plans. Mine and Jacob's being to get as far away from here as possible. People don't tend to look kindly on the mysterious murder of an innocent old lady; particularly when the two teenage tenants she housed suddenly appear missing, having broken apart a dock after burning down her house. It's hardly surprising that we'd be seen as suspects. Am sure with some interrogation of my own, I could easily subdue those claims. And I would likely receive great pleasure via doing so. If only Jacob didn't have such a tight leash on me, then perhaps I could indulge in the bloodshed.

Rosalie's plan seems to be abit more simple. She reveals that she had been searching for me for some months. She seeks to spend time with me. The news is kind've unsettling news, however Jacob reassures me that this is good; that I may still have a family. His eyes seem to glaze over as memory sweeps him – no doubt memories of my mother. I dare to contemplate what disgusting acts would make him go goo-goo eyes at the mere thought of her. I have to fight the urge to growl, shoving my hands into my pocket, I walk further on ahead, head held high.

Fine, so what if he had some sick emotional ties to _her_? It seems pretty clear he doesn't any longer... or does he? I'm nearly brought to a halt at the revelation. I feel a cold shiver run through my veins. This reaction is... disturbing and inexplicable. I shake off the sensation and resolve to not think about Jake and Mrs Cullen engaging in activities that are meant to be of an intimate nature. The mere idea is beyond revolting. And not because it involves _my_ Jacob, but rather it involves something being romantically involved with _her_; which I deem impossible.

We continue to hike further north, the glorious white mountain range towering over the small town surrounding Lock Fyne. The tips of the Arrochar Alps seems to glow in the brightening light of dawn. Wild grass swallows me up to my knees as we trudge along in the damp soil. We spend the whole day making our way to the base of the mountain where we are shrouded under the forest canopy. Rosalie removes her cloak and lays it upon the ground as a make-shift bed. "We can camp here" She says.

The remaining daylight is beginning to fade, casting shadows against the forest floor. I offer to fetch some wood, and instantly, Jacob is at my side. I roll my eyes. "Some privacy would be nice," I huff. He glances down at me, brows raised in astonishment. I continue to stray further from our camp, keeping my gaze fixed in front of me. For reasons I don't understand, I am angry with him. Merely being near him is starting to infuriate me, whereas conversing with him is near painful. His big brother, overprotective act is beginning to bore me. "Nessie..." He begins but I pivot to face him, snapping back at him "Do not call me that!" I am not in the mood to be little Nessie. "I'm tired of you smothering me! Rosalie is right, you are sick!" I turn away and fold my arms. I sigh, then kneel down and begin searching the ground for suitable firewood.

I hear Jake whimper, and somehow that small sound forces me to peek back at him. He's backed up several inches his hands now raised in a defensive gesture. "Ne.. Renesmee," he breathes "I... I'm sorry. I know things have been hard today, but... Ow!" It is at this point that I have decided to end his tiresome mumblings by throwing a rock at him. He slumps against a tree and begins staunching the blood seeping from his forehead. Non-chalantly, I pluck up my bundle of suitable wood and walk back to camp. I emerge out of the clearing and find that Rosalie has fashioned some temporary log love-seats out of some of the surrounding trees. I glance up at the night sky, and am dazzled by the bright stars.

I can feel my body instantly relaxing. So much so, that I almost drop the bundle. I close my eyes briefly and sigh before opening them again. I set the bundle down within the fuel-less firepit that Rosalie had made. With her assistance, we manage to get a flame going. She then lies back sprawled out onto her cloak, propped up on her elbow. She glances up and gives me a wry smile. "What happened to the dog?" She asks. I can't help but grin.

"He's off pouting, no doubt." I reply. She smiles warmly.

"I was worried for a moment. Did he stub his toe or something?" I smirk.

"Yeah, you could say that." I say, hugging my knees to my chest as I playfully rock back and forth on my log. My eyes are drawn back to the sky. Whenever I star gaze like this, I am reminded of a more peaceful time, as a soft nostalgic tune begins to fill my mind. These moments are fleeting, yet their comfort warms my blood. Being a dhampir, half vampire and half human, a deep rooted part of me draws me to the darkness. I feel more connected with that life than any other. A life as one of those creatures that stalks the night. I glance at Rosalie. She is one of those creatures. She is free to embrace the monster that she is. Me? I am tied down already, it seems.

My earlier anger quickly resurfaces, and I find my nails clawing at my jeans, ripping through them. Rosalie has noticed this. "Something on your mind?" She asks, concern edging her voice. I flush. "I was just thinking... All my life, I've been told what to do, how to do it, when, where and why." I pause, my eyes narrowed at the fire. Rage surges through my body, causing my shoulders to shake slightly. I sigh, in an attempt to defuse the tension in my body. It works mildly. "Just, for once, I would like to do what _I _want to do. This is _my_ life after all." I grit my teeth "I am tired of being moved around like some mindless pawn." I spit the words, spite coating them.

Rosalie is watching me carefully. Her golden eyes are narrowed as she examines my expression, my body language. She bites her lip and glances down, her voice quiet "I know how that feels... To have your life planned out for you. At the time, I was happy, but now... Now that I've seen the true horrors of the world, I resent that." Now I am watching her intently; I don't know what she means, but the pain in her expression... it becomes palpable, condensed within a single tear. My body has gone numb with shock. So this woman was not always the free bird she is now. I suddenly feel foolish. All I can manage is a quiet "I'm sorry." She shakes off the sensation and gives a dismissive wave, wiping the tear away with the back of her hand. "Don't worry about it, Renesmee. Can't be sorry for what has passed. Time is now."

A rustling of the bushes behind us, indicates that Jacob is within proximity. I groan. He has managed to smear the blood from his minor flesh wound all across his forehead. I wonder idly if he's been crying. The thought makes me smile. He frowns at me, eyes narrowed and body rigid. He shakes his head then sits himself down on the opposite side of the campfire. His eyes continue to burn into mine. I beam a grin at him, tilting my head to the side. He gives a jittery shake of his head, expression unchanging. "D'you know how much of a bitch you can be sometimes?" Rosalie sits up instantly, gaping at him. Jacob sighs and raises a hand to halt her "Not you." He adds, turning his attention back to me, his brow furrowed. Yeah. He's pissed. I purse my lips, rubbing my hands together enjoying the heat from the fire. I do not answer. _Let him continue,_ I think to myself. _Let him get it all out, let him make a fool of himself_. And that he excels at. "You're thoughtless, careless. You completely disregard everyone else!" He continues. _Much like someone else I know_, I note mentally. "You manipulate people," _Like mother like daughter then_ My lips curl up into a sneer. He notices this, and instantly seems offended by it. "What? You think what I'm saying is funny?" _Hilarious, rather._

I continue to lock gazes with him refusing to answer his question. He bails, shaking his head to himself, looking defeated. His body sags and he looks to Rosalie for back up. She merely shrugs, clearly caught in between here. She seems as startled as I was at his outburst. Granted, Jacob has rarely had moments like this. And even when he does, all I can think of, is the following. "Sticks and stones, Jake." I grin, wishing I could taunt him with another stone. He gives me a piercing glare, growls and then stalks off, leaving a trail of tension in his wake.

I grunt and turn my gaze back to Rosalie whom has settled back down onto her cloak. "What's gotten into him?" She asks. I shrug.

"Probably got a piece of silver stuck up his ass." She snorts. I watch his retreating figure. No doubt he's going to search for a dramatic spot to give an agonized wolf howl. I smile.

"Well, y'know what they say. He who lives in a glass house shouldn't throw stones."

The following day I find Jacob curled up in the far corner of the camp, the sun highlighting his glossy fur coat. Guess the fire made him feel too warm. I still resent him, and feel like I should do one of two things: A) Go over to him and kick him awake, or B) Apologise. I chose to do neither and instead, begin to assist Rosalie in clearing up our camp. Jacobs ears twitch in his sleep, as he eventually rises, stretching his large lean body in a massive yawn. Suddenly, a sick thought flutters into my mind; _I prefer him as a wolf_. I'm momentarily stunned because I don't know if I meant that genuinely or sarcastically. I shake off the thought. Clearly my mind is all over the place this morning. Probably because I haven't eaten in roughly a day. I check my watch; it reads 6:00am. Pretty early.

Rosalie's body suddenly freezes up. My eyes widen at her, but then a moment later, the scent hits me. An overwhelming heady smell that causes my mouth to salivate and my throat to constrict. A deep musky smell that makes for one intoxicating allure. There can only be one creature on this earth that could emit such a delicious smell. Humans.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **Shazam! I hath returned. Still fighting through my writers block, but hopefully this update will do for now. Sorry it's abit of a short one compared to the others but eh, least it's something? I'll probably update it some more during the week. P.S thanks to VictoriaBellaDonna for her most thought-provoking commentary. With that, enjoy!**

My stomach groans and Rose shushes me. Easy for her, considering her organs have long since ceased their mortal needs. We were entranced. I close my eyes. Reaching out, expanding my five heightened senses into a radar, trying to pinpoint the source. Meanwhile, I savoured the smell, inhaling deeply that warm rustic smell. In a flash, Rosalie darts ahead, with unfathomable speeds as she weaves through the trees. I grin eagerly and lunge forward too.

Although it seems my 'mate' has anticipated my moves, just managing to grip me by my sweater, and giving it a sudden yank. I struggle for a moment, then break apart from the tuft of fabric he's holding and race forward. My abnormal heart is beating frantically. This is nothing like yesterday when he grabbed me in that bear hug. I feel a funny tingle rushing over my skin. It prickles and crawls all over me in a most unpleasant way. But that's probably just the leaves as I whiz past the trees.

I am temporarily disorientated by Jacob's grab for me – did I really just say that? Suddenly that sickly skin-crawl sensation returns. I shake it off and try to recover my bearings. The thick mountain winds combined with my insane speed result in my hair obscuring my field of vision, momentarily blinding me. My body slams into something soft yet heavy. I loose my footing and fall forwards. My head is swimming from the impact. Wow. For all my boasting about being a creature of the night, I really do suck at stealth. My senses switch back on and my eyes widen in shock. I glance down at the helpless boy beneath me. His expression looks pained. I then notice that my hands have clamped his arms down, the rest of my body weight holding him in place. He doesn't dare to wriggle free. Huh. Odd. I thought humans cherished their lives. _All but one_; I add, thinking of my mother.

I grit my teeth and eye the human, tilting my head curiously. He squirms helplessly beneath my grasp. He's shaking, and what little colouring has drained from his cheeks. His lips tremble for a moment, but then his eyes linger away from me. He dares to tilt his head and I glance over my shoulder to see what has him distracted. Rosalie is skirting around us, smirking down at him. He seems entranced by her. Then I realise why. The sparkling. He seems transfixed by the pale glow surrounding her delicate form. Even as she sneers at his helplessness, his jaw goes slack, gazing at her unearthly beauty. Rosalie's eyes stray to mine for a brief moment, as if issuing an unspoken signal. His neck is now fully exposed to me. I grin, tighten my grip on his wrist and bury my teeth into his jugular vein.

His blood tastes amazing. Freshly seasoned with endorphins from his long morning hike, with a lingering woody scent that fills my body with warmth. The overall taste is a tangy metallic flavour. I shudder with pleasure, sinking my teeth deeper into his neck. The thrashing of his limbs suddenly stills, as I continue sucking greedily. Rosalie is at my side, practically drooling, she almost yanks his arm out of its' socket in her beastly hunger. She barges against my body as we both drain him within minutes. As we're suckling out the remaining few droplets, she utters, lips smeared in blood "It gets harder to resist." She licks her lips.

My mind is racing. I stare down at the remains of this lifeless limp body. I have a brief out-of-body experience; I have just killed someone. _Me_. My very first taste of human blood. I suppose most people would expect me to be horrified, to recoil in shock at my actions and feel ashamed for the rest of my impure immortal life. Instead, for the first time ever, I feel empowered. I feel free. I have done the unspeakable. I have embraced my true self. It may not be the prettiest of all things, and I certainly realise the dismay of the human. But really, how am I any different than a human slaughtering a poor innocent pig? That pig had babies too. They do it for food. Why should it then be wrong for me to slaughter humans? They need meat for nutrition. I need blood for sustenance. How are we any different?

I'm snapped back to the present by a gasp from behind us. I turn and see Jacob standing, his jaw dropped open. He looks terrified. I shrug it off, however I catch a glance at Rosalie. Her gaze is locked with his. I wonder idly for a moment what she's thinking and why Jacob is just standing idly there. Unfortunately my pondering time is limited as out of the corner of my eye I spot a cloaked figure leap down from the mountain, slicing through the air towards us. My jaw goes slack for a moment as I tumble out of range. Instantly, Rosalie snaps out of her thoughts and snarls at the attacker, baring her feline-like fangs, pouncing directly into the path of the newcomer. She takes the full impact, whilst Jacob is stooped low, hunched over, ready to jump into the fight. Jacob waves me off into the general direction of the woods.

Instinctively, I retreat into the bushes. Fear spikes through my heated blood. I hide behind a tree, deep within the forest, my eyes finding a visionary path, as I watch the fight, out of harm's reach. With all her might, Rosalie attempts to restrain the thrashing assailant, whom despite the resistance, keeps trying to break free of Rose's grip. I realise what the shadowy woman is aiming for: me. I'm hyperventilating just at the mere thought of it. Rose manages to throw the woman to the ground, and pin her. Meanwhile, Jacob glances between me and the woman, his expression torn. Indecision? That would be a first. I don't recall him ever hesitating to protect me. Rosalie is shouting something at him, but I'm too far to hear what is being said. I catch a glimpse of a pained expression on Jacob's face.

I am still mad at him. An unwelcome pang of sympathy strikes me, and all the anger and resentment I'm harbouring towards him returns, swamping me. My revelation with Rosalie has opened my eyes to the thing I desire more than anything. Freedom. I do not want his doting care. I don't need that. And I don't need him. I find myself sinking further away from their view, as if my legs were slowly dragging me away. I want to run. Should I? Would it be the wise thing to do? There were so many doubts in my mind, but one thing was certain. I didn't want to be a pawn in their games anymore. My very existence was merely so my mother could accomplish her own selfish ends. As soon as she could, she slung me off with 'Uncle Jacob' and I haven't heard from her since. It only proves to me how much of a deadbeat mother she was. But there were other reasons for as to why I detest her. My heart felt heavy due to the amount of hatred burning in my chest.

I need to go. And so, I ran.


End file.
